S15E18 - "Judgment" - Horror Hill

Erik Peabody (0:02)

Chilling Tales for Dark Nights.

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Greetings, listeners, and welcome back to Horror Hill. I'm Erik Peabody, your host. Tonight, we're starting a string of stories by show regular author, Micah Edwards. We'll be featuring one each week for the next five weeks. And once everything wraps up, I'll have a special surprise for you. No hints or peeking beforehand. You're just going to have to wait like everyone else. But fortunately, you have some scary stories to keep you busy. Tonight's is titled, The Judge. In the small Midwestern town of Maunderston, tragedy has struck. A high schooler named Hunter Davis was found dead in his parents' swimming pool after a party. While the official investigation has ruled Hunter's death an accident, his mother is not convinced. Now, Maunderston has found itself cut off from the outside world. And even stranger, the Davis house has appeared to have rotted overnight. What the citizens of Maunderston don't know is that a reckoning is approaching their small town. And both the innocent and guilty alike will be judged. And one more thing. I encourage you to go check out my new show, Degenerated, a horror fiction podcast. I just can't get enough of narrating spooky stories for you all. So along with Jeff Sturtevant, Paul J. McSorley, and Drew Blood, we decided to start this other thing going. If your horror itch isn't quite scratched after tonight's episode of Horror Hill, go check out Degenerated to slake your vile thirst.

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And now, from author Micah Edwards, I give you The Judge.

It had been a long month in Maunderston. The small midwestern town had been holding its collective breath, waiting on the results of the police investigation into the death of Hunter Davis. It had been an accident, of course. It had to have been. Hunter was popular at school, generally well liked. The idea that someone had heard him intentionally was unfathomable. And yet, while the police investigated, the possibility hung over everyone like a cowl.

Hunter had been found by the police at the bottom of the swimming pool at his mother's house. The police were there because they had gotten called to break up a party that had gotten out of hand. They had switched from everyone go home to no one leave the premises pretty quickly once they found Hunter. But most of the teens had already dispersed by then. All anyone really knew was that most of the local high school had been at the party. So if there had been foul play, it cast doubt on them all.

It was a Tuesday when Sheriff Randy George called the meeting at the local VFW hall. The local news team from WCOR was there with their cameras on him, but it hardly mattered. Pretty much everyone was packed into the cramped hall to hear what he had to say in person.

Folks, you all know me. I won't dress this up in a lot of formality to waste your time. We've been looking into the death of Hunter Davis, as you know. My men have been very thorough, and what they've found confirms the independent coroner's report. There is no evidence of any foul play. Hunter Davis' death was a tragic accident. We consider this case closed. He finished as the crowd broke into an excited hubbub. It was quickly silenced by an anguished scream from the back of the hall. Melissa Davis, Hunter's mother, stood in an accusatory stance. Her fists were clenched at her sides. Her face was tight with rage. That's all you have to say after a month? My son was killed in my own home surrounded by people, and your answer is that it was an accident? Mrs. Davis, please. The sheriff tried, but she rolled over him. Don't you Mrs. Davis me, Randy. I went to school with you. I recollect you being at a party or two, which means that you know what they're like. There's drinking, there's fighting. Those little things that didn't get sorted out at school, they all come up once the night gets rowdy. And yet my son's death just happened with no one else involved? The sheriff took on a slightly sterner tone. Melissa, I've tried not to point fingers, but allowing a party of this sort, Melissa's voice jumped an octave with fury. So you found someone to blame after all? There were a hundred people at that party, but I'm the one at fault because I didn't stop it from happening? She swapped a hand out over the crowd. You're all responsible, every one of you. Someone here is hiding the truth. Someone killed my boy and they know who they are. The sheriff motioned to Deputy Williams, who stepped forward to take Melissa's arm. She shrugged him off violently. Don't touch me. You're fake investigation, you're promises, you're lies. There'll be real justice for Hunter. You'll all see. The deputy reached for her again. Melissa shoved him away and stormed for the door. No one stopped her, though the camera followed her until the metal door slammed behind her. The finality of the motion shocked the room back to life. And once again, the hall hummed with half-whispered conversations. Neighbor turned to neighbor. Everyone eager to talk about and dissect what they just seen.